Lyrics That's Hard - Pete Rock, Smif-N-Wessun, Sean Price

That's Hard

Di dread at di control, international, control all thru di world
Nuh version we martial we nuh partial
We play nuff bwoy selections without objection!!!
Two rudeboys!!!
Tek and Steele whattup I love y’all
Styles P!!!
I ain’t tell you that I’m loco brother (Yeah!)
I keep the Tek and Steele like the Cocoa Brovaz
My niggas still Smif-N-Wessun to me (MY G!!!)
Hard headed, the God bodies couldn’t teach a lesson to me
Ahkis couldn’t reach me, neither could the church boys
I was outside with a gun movin that work boy (I was outside!)
Whattup natty head, bald head, beard men
Some niggas sizzlin us we can’t sear men
Fried to a frickaseed, and I know I’m wicked
So I don’t wear rosaries or thicker beads
No crosses, no Bible or Qu’ran, just survival on my mind
With a gun up in my palm
All spiritual nigga, I’m all lyrical
Die and come back I’m the ghost of all miracles (GHOST!)
I told them I could stare at Medusa (I could!)
They think that I’m high but I’m really tryin to stay in the future and shoot
ya!!!
Nigga!
Ghost!
G-G-G-'Gon take that shit out of somebody… somebody
And now the DA wanna chase
Cause the way I beat the case was a slap in the face
And now he lookin' like an asshole
Hotter than tobasco, try’na stop our cash flow
But I’m cooler than the other side of the pillow
They wanna give me years that end with a zero
And it’s a trap try’na get rich
You got raps and all types of bullshit
The connect slow, or the money short
Or they wanna play for the shit they bought
Better stop buying into rations
Multiply then divide into fractions
Got opportunities to go global
Heard a click and switched the chip in the mobile
Shake the feds off my coattails
Tell the little homie who the thief order a motel
Now that’s hard
A lot of wack niggas rappin' now and I know why
One cornball pop, now the rest wanna go try
All praises due to Allah, no bow tie
My whole Family stay Stoned, I’m so Sly
Cry now, cry later, no laughin'
Cocaine hills in the crib, so Aspen
No acting, Bokeem Woodbine
Blow caps back and your whole damn team die (P!)
Slave master, I sell white girl
I don’t eat ham motherfucker I might hurl
Sean Price, I got the murder flow
Rap President rule the world, Kurtis Blow
Give a fuck about nobody, I hold shotties
Upstate New York is where I throw bodies
Sean’s grimy nigga
Rape you, make you «Say It Again», Ron Isley nigga
Now that’s hard
Fuckouttahere, P!